Some assembly required...

So, we bought Yikealo a Radio Flyer tricycle. The ordeal of putting the miserable contraption together has already been perfectly and far more elegantly described than I could ever hope to do:

Nothing makes me lose my cool like: toy packaging
Ask the kids to leave the room for: toy packaging
I have no choice, the money's spent
I've worked for hours to make a dent
I guess it's anger management: toy packaging

Nothing makes me lose my cool like: toy packaging
Ask the kids "Please leave the room it's time for: toy packaging!"
I'm drawing up a battle plan
to extricate this robot man
My self-esteem is in the can: toy packaging

In the old days you could hold a box and shake it
And hear the pieces rattling around
My eyes tear up with these grommets, tape and twisty ties
Remembering their beautiful sound...

Nothing makes me lose my cool like: toy packaging
Kids, you really need to leave the room - mom's opening: toy packaging
I'm sorry you have to see this sight
You must be brave, no please don't cry
I promise it will be alright
I hope to have it by tonight
Never mind this dynamite
Toy packaging!
-- Sara Groves

After making it through step six of twelve -- with steps one through four being the simple identification of all parts -- in a mere hour, I had Larisa get Yikealo ready for bed without being able to ride his new tricycle. He put on a good face, but I could tell how disappointed he was.

Amazingly, while teeth were being brushed (no snickering from the crowd who remembers Yikealo's translation of brush teeth) and PJs were being donned, Ababa sailed through steps seven through twelve in just under five minutes.

I called Yikealo out to see my handiwork, and the joy that radiated from his face as he gazed upon his pile-of-rubbish-turned-tricycle transcends description.

It was at this point that he started teaching Larisa and me about God. Every couple minutes we would have this conversation:

Yikealo: Tricycle yenna no? (tricycle mine?)
Parent: yes, yours
Yikealo (beaming and hugging for all he was worth): Thank You!

So this morning he had us up early and the first thing out of his mouth was "Tricycle yenna no?". The same thing, over and over... and over. Larisa and I followed him up and down our street for nearly two hours straight and he was just beaming the entire time.

What is it about this child's past that makes a tricycle so monumental? His fascination with all things wheeled is no doubt a factor in his fixation with this toy. Also, I can only believe that this is the first mobile toy that he's ever owned. It breaks my heart, and I would pay ten times the price of our Radio Flyer to allow his birth mother to have the opportunity we had to soak in his adoration.

Then I started thinking: God chose the role of Father. He could have chosen any role he wanted, but father is a persistent theme. Is God standing beside me waiting to see what I'll do with the gifts He gives? Does He feel the same joy when I look up at him beaming and say "Thank You!" when I find out that a precious gift is mine? Would He open his infinite wallet of blessings if I were only to appreciate the gifts He has given?

Dear Father, teach me to give You thanks as my son gives thanks.